


It's a Cruel World, Mr. J

by gluupor



Series: Andreil Week 2018 [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Andreil Week 2018, Andrew as the Joker, Bad Depiction of Mental Institution, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prompt: Mental health, joker/harley au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: “And you? You think I’m a monster?” asked Andrew.“Maybe,” said Neil. “But I don’t think that monsters are born. They’re made.”





	It's a Cruel World, Mr. J

**Author's Note:**

> There are many, many things that are icky about the Joker/Harley relationship in DC comics/media, like the fact that it's a doctor/patient relationship, the abuse that Harley suffers at Joker's hands, the fact that the relationship is unhealthy and one-sided, etc, etc. So I ignored all of that.
> 
> This fic contains AFTG-canon-like references to improper medication and bad treatment of mental health (nothing graphic). Prompt: Mental health.

Neil carefully arranged everything on the tray, throwing a couple "fun size" (read: tiny) unwrapped Mars bars on at the last moment. He'd discovered Andrew's sweet tooth completely by accident, but he'd made use of his discovery by bringing Andrew sugary things when he could. The current supervisor on duty didn't care if he added an unauthorized treat to Andrew's meal, unlike the others. One of them had sneered and told Neil that "that monster deserves death, not chocolate".

Neil took the tray over to his supervisor.

"That for Minyard?" the man asked lazily, glancing over the tray to ensure that nothing forbidden or dangerous was being taken to an inmate.

Neil managed not the roll his eyes at the rhetorical question. Clearly it was for Andrew since Neil had been in charge of bringing him his meals for the last six months.

"I don't know how you can keep going back to see him day in and day out," the man continued. "Doesn't he unnerve you? Before you got started we used to have to rotate everyone through: no one ever wanted to go more than once."

Neil shrugged. "He's not so bad," he said.

His supervisor looked at him incredulously. "He's a cold blooded killer."

Neil just shrugged again, not wanting to mention that he was accustomed to cold blooded killers. He'd grown up surrounded by psychopaths and sociopaths, which was why he didn't believe that Andrew was truly psychotic. He was similar to Lola, playing up his so-called psychopathy for effect. The comparison should have worried Neil greatly, but for some reason it didn't. It was strange, but he was more comfortable in Andrew's presence than in almost anyone else's.

His supervisor approved the tray and he made his way to Andrew's cell. The guard stationed outside the cell door also checked the tray and patted Neil down, before unlocking the door and letting Neil in.

Andrew was waiting for him, seated and wearing the straitjacket that he was forced to wear at all times. He smiled as Neil entered, big and bright and fake.

Of all the things that Neil disliked about Easthaven Asylum's treatment of Andrew, and there were myriad, the drugs that forced him into excessive cheerfulness were Neil's least favourite. He understood the reasoning behind them - Andrew was a criminal, one who had terrorized the city with robberies and bombings before the vigilante who dressed up in a bat costume had caught him - but he couldn't believe them useful or necessary.

Neil had asked Dr. Proust, the doctor in charge of Andrew's treatment, about them but the doctor had been condescending and dismissive. To the other employees Andrew was nothing but an unhinged villain, so destructive and joyless that he had to be medicated to keep them all safe.

Neil carefully placed the tray down and Andrew cackled when he saw the chocolates.

"Trying to bribe me, Mr. J?" he asked. He sneered over the nickname like he always did. Neil was certain that Andrew had somehow deduced that Neil was lying about his identity.

"What could you have that I want?" wondered Neil.

"You're either delightfully naive or far stupider than you've led me to believe," said Andrew.

Neil just rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure what Andrew was implying, but he'd gotten used to the way that Andrew never properly answered questions. He was monitored at all times and he clearly didn't trust anyone enough to let them know anything about him. It was why Neil guarded any information he learned about the man jealously: Andrew sometimes let Neil see more of himself than he ever showed anyone else.

In truth, the chocolates were actually a gift; if everything went to plan this evening, then this was probably the last time that he and Andrew would ever see each other. As he definitely couldn't mention that in front of the surveillance cameras, he just proceeded as he normally would.

"Chocolate or unappetizing grey sludge first?" he asked.

Andrew chuckled. "I'm concerned that my involuntary laughter is convincing you that you're funny."

"Sludge it is," decided Neil, scooping some of the aforementioned sludge onto a spoon and carefully feeding it to Andrew.

After two bites, Andrew spoke again, "Tell me a story, Mr. J."

This was a common request. Andrew had spent the first few weeks of their acquaintance trying to frighten Neil as he had the other orderlies who had been assigned to feed him, but once he'd realized that Neil wasn't afraid of him and was as stubborn as a goat, he'd begun asking for stories. Neil saw no harm in acquiescing - life for Andrew must have been incredibly tedious and boring - but he stayed away from anything incriminating and his own less-than-legal past. Andrew seemed to be able to read through the lines anyway. He'd offered small tidbits back to Neil: nothing that any observers could use against him, but things that allowed Neil to start to see through the drug-addled grin.

Neil settled for telling the story of how he first came to Gotham, neatly excising about 80% of the truth; he left out his mother's death, and how his father, the infamous Butcher who led the League of Assassins, had almost caught him. Without those details it was not a very interesting story.

Andrew listened anyway, his mocking grin indicating that he could hear the holes in what Neil was saying. Neil finished feeding Andrew his meal as he spoke. Once the second Mars bar disappeared he started packing up, not wanting to linger suspiciously. He picked up the tray and turned to leave.

"Stay frosty," said Andrew.

Neil gave a surprised laugh. "Careful," he said. "There's a new villain wreaking havoc on the city. The papers call him Mr. Freeze. He might think you're stealing his lines."

"What did the papers call me?"

"You don't know?" asked Neil. "They call you The Monster."

"And you? You think I'm a monster?" asked Andrew.

"Maybe," said Neil. "But I don't think that monsters are born. They're made."

Andrew stared at him for several moments, but he couldn't keep his smile suppressed for long. His hysterical giggling followed Neil out of the cell.

* * *

Neil was ready and waiting when the power cut off. He moved quickly to Andrew's cell, incapacitating the guard with a handful of some kind of powder he'd been given. It wasn't his plan: he'd been approached a couple weeks previously by several fairly suspicious individuals who offered to pay him to help them break Andrew out of Easthaven. Neil was aware that Andrew was a immoral killer, but from what he'd witnessed in Easthaven the so-called "good guys" weren't much better. He'd always suspected where he fell on the hero-villain scale and wasn't surprised when he came down firmly on the villain side.

He took the guard's keys, let himself into Andrew's cell, and freed him from his straitjacket.

"We've got to hurry," he said, and led Andrew back into the hallway. He'd only taken a couple steps before he was bodily thrown into the wall. Andrew gripped him tightly and brought the guard's knife to Neil's throat.

Neil didn't struggle; if Andrew wanted to kill him, he would.

Andrew just grinned. "Interesting," he said, and let Neil go. "Lay on, MacDuff."

Neil took him through the kitchen, deserted at this hour, and out to the loading dock, where three familiar, masked individuals waited for them with a truck.

"Took you long enough," said the tallest one impatiently. "Let's go."

Neil stopped in the doorway; Andrew took a couple more steps before he noticed Neil's absence and turned. "Aren't you coming, Mr. J?" he asked with false innocence.

"Taking him with us wasn't part of the agreement," said the shortest masked man peevishly.

Andrew cocked his head. "I'm not willing to be in your debt," he said. "Come with me and I'll make sure we're even."

Neil followed without even pretending to hesitate, figuring that this was a better option than what would happen when his involvement in Andrew's escape was inevitably discovered.

"Where are we going?" he asked once they were safely in the truck and through Easthaven's outer gates.

Andrew dragged his thumb across his joker's smile. "First, we're going to get rid of this," he said. "And then you and I are going to show everyone exactly what kind of monsters they created."

**Author's Note:**

> The rest of the Foxes are definitely the Rogues Gallery in this AU. However, my knowledge of Batman villains comes almost exclusively from [the LEGO Batman videogame](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lego_Batman:_The_Videogame) and [the StarKid Batman musical](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmZhMeY5L44&list=PL96B8289ADF77A8C4) so I don't know who's who. Although that does mean that Riko is Batman...
> 
> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


End file.
